Overruled
by bravevulnerability
Summary: 'Defense Attorney Kate Beckett is a far cry from the 'Short Attention Span Stan' Novak he had been expecting.' AU for 8x10, Witness for the Prosecution.


**A/N: My apologies in advance for any and all legal inaccuracies.**

* * *

"This is going to be the easiest case I have ever tried," the ADA, Marcus Weller, assures him as they stride down the courtroom corridor, the deep lines carved into his face from years of hard work, tough cases and criminals, relaxed and free of worry.

"How can you be so sure?" Castle inquires, maintaining his own calm exterior, but it's his first time ever testifying on a courtroom trial, his first time taking the stand as an eyewitness, the key to putting this killer away for good.

He's so excited he can barely think straight.

Marcus walks him through the reasoning for a second time, reminds him of the damning evidence stacked high against Nina O'Keefe, the woman he had caught in the act of stabbing Sadie Beakman with a fire poker, but-

"Isn't that all circumstantial?"

"Yes," Marcus nods, but the pleased smile remains on his lips. "Which is why it's a good thing I have you, an eyewitness."

Marcus escorts him the rest of the way, musing about how the defendant should have taken his proffered plea deal, standing solemnly by his side as he shares his condolences with the victim's family at the doors of the courtroom, a husband and a daughter still in mourning and yearning for justice.

It strengthens Rick's resolve to do this right, to ignore the giddiness of being swept up in the happenings of a murder case, and put the woman who did this behind bars.

"And remember, no matter how hard he tries to spin the facts, you stick with what you saw," Marcus instructs him, covering Rick's shoulder with a firm hand. "You're going to do just fine up there, Mr. Castle."

And Castle believes him, that is, until a half hour later when he's finally on the stand during the trial and it isn't the hack of a man with a lack of focus that Marcus had joked about cross-examining him. It's a woman in a fitted blazer and a pencil skirt, golden brown hair tied back into an artful bun, and a fire burning in her eyes sitting on the defense's side.

Kate Beckett, he hears the judge say, and she looks ready to tear him apart.

Marcus recites the questions they had rehearsed beforehand - inquiring about his job as a writer, why he was at the Master's party where Sadie had been killed that night, what he had seen - the answers all coming smoothly and without issue, winning over the jury with ease.

"Ms. Beckett, your witness," the judge announces once Marcus's questions have been concluded and in the second it takes Kate Beckett to rise from the defense's table, make her way to stand in front of him, Castle's mind goes utterly blank.

Defense Attorney Kate Beckett is a far cry from the 'Short Attention Span Stan' Novak he had been expecting.

"Mr. Castle." Her voice is like velvet, smooth and enticing, but there's not a hint of softness to her face, nothing but determination sharp like the bones of her cheek, the angles of her jaw. "How can you be so sure that my client is the killer?"

"I – because I was an eyewitness," he stammers, noticing the subtle rise to the corner of her mouth, a twitch of victory to her lips, because she already knew.

She had him.

"Ah, so glad that you used that word," Beckett begins, drifting away from him to address the jury, demanding the attention of the entire courtroom with so little effort, making it her own as she meticulously causes his entire testimony to unravel with each question she throws at him, as she turns him around so bad, she has him second guessing everything he had seen that night, questioning the truth of conclusion he had come to.

"Mr. Castle, let's pretend that you're a character out of one of your novels," she muses after she's used his own words against him, found an excerpt in one of his less recent Derrick Storm novels and pinpointed a sentence that called eyewitnesses unreliable, gathered from his brief time spent shadowing a Detective McNulty a few years ago. He had been a little insulted, but mostly, he can't help feeling impressed by her. She has dedication, drive, and it's attractive, hypnotic, absolutely lethal in the middle of a murder trial. "Would Derrick Storm think that you were a liable witness?"

Rick mulls it over for her benefit. "Yes, I think he would."

"I have to disagree and must admit, I'm disappointed in you, Mr. Castle," she declares, and for some ridiculous reason, it sparks guilt within his stomach, as if she means it, as if she knows him well enough to be genuinely let down by him. But she doesn't, so why does the dark flare of disgrace in her gaze bother him so much? "Dr. Parish testified that the victim, Mrs. Beakman, was alive for five to ten minutes after being stabbed and in excruciating pain. Might it be that my client simply came across the victim after the true killer stabbed her and fled?"

"Well, I - I mean-"

"This is not one of your stories, Mr. Castle," she snaps at him, her voice rising but still in control, always so carefully in control even as her nostrils flare and her eyes sparkle with scrutiny. "You do not get to make up the facts as you see fit. Now, I'm going to ask you one last time, is it possible that my client did not kill Mrs. Beakman?"

Castle glances to Marcus, his face lacking color, those lines branching from his eyes and reaching across his forehead that Rick had taken note of earlier now filled with stress and desperation, but he's too flustered to remember all of the prosecutor's earlier coaching.

"I - yes, it's possible," he concedes, watching the tense set to her shoulders loosen, but only by a fraction. "There's a _small_ possibility that I was wrong."

She doesn't look the least bit satisfied, neither does Marcus, but Kate Beckett concludes her questioning, stalks back to her side of the aisle, while Castle is left dazed in his seat.

* * *

After court is in recess and he's received a long lecture from Marcus over the reasonable doubt he had instilled within the jury, Castle places his guilt on the back burner and wanders out into the lobby of the courthouse, his eyes scanning the crowds of pantsuits and briefcases. He knows it's a bad idea to search for the legs made endless by the slim skirt, the sleek heels, to seek out the woman with the gorgeous eyes who had just flayed him alive on the stand. Marcus had even warned him against it without even a mention of her from Rick.

"And don't think I didn't notice the way you were eyeing up Beckett. Do _not_ do anything to put this case in worse jeopardy than you already have," the ADA had cautioned with a disapproving gleam in his hard eyes.

But there's something about the way Kate Beckett had sent his heart tripping that has him desperate to catch at least one last glimpse of her before the day was done.

* * *

Kate descends the steps from the courthouse, starts down the sidewalk and hunches her shoulders against the chill of the February air. Her briefcase weighs heavy at her side, the messenger bag strung across her chest balancing out her discomfort, and she sighs, halts on the concrete and relents to hailing a cab.

"Ms. Beckett! Hey, wait!"

She jerks her head towards the familiar voice shouting her name, equal parts puzzled and horrified to see Richard Castle sprinting towards her with his lips strung up in a smile. She had just ripped this guy to shreds, why the hell is he smiling?

He slows once he reaches her, the breeze blowing his hair in different directions while his eyes come alive with a stranger flicker of excitement, compelling her to indulge in his boyish charm. The same tactic she's sure he and ADA Weller had thought would win the jury over.

"I could get in trouble for speaking with you, Mr. Castle," she informs him before he can even open his mouth, her eyes trained strictly on the street and the incoming flow of available yellow cabs.

"But I want to help," Castle states from her side, the broad wall of his frame blocking the gust of wind that sweeps by, and Kate steals a glance at him from the corner of her eye. "I know what I saw. At least, what I _think_ I saw, but I'm not closed off to other possibilities."

"My client's innocence is not a possibility, it's a fact," she hisses, glowering at the hitch of his brow her response earns. "And you should consult with your counsel, not with me."

"No offense to Marcus, but I find you far more interesting," Castle murmurs, his eyes not tripping down her body like they had in the courtroom when her head whips towards him, but intent on her face, unnerving, staring at her as if he's trying to decipher her. "Discussing the case, I mean. It would be far more interesting to discuss it with you, to hear your side of-"

"You heard my side of things, Mr. Castle. In the courtroom while you were on the stand. There's nothing more to-"

"Kate," he pleads, her name rich in his mouth, and she squares her jaw.

He may be her favorite author, the man whose words had once comforted her through the lonely years in law school, the only constant she had had left after her mother's murder. But it wasn't the same and besides, she had learned long ago that the man did not match the depth of his words, that Richard Castle was nothing more than a pompous playboy millionaire that often elicited a frown on her lips when she saw him in the tabloids. Her mention of disappointment hadn't necessarily been a lie earlier.

Though, standing next to her now, he doesn't seem to match the image he's spent so many years portraying, his eyes earnest and hopeful, charm replaced by something that looks a lot like integrity... But her personal view of him would not rival her professionalism and she refused to let him sway her with the use of her first name.

"It's Beckett," she growls, turning on her heel and resuming her stride down the sidewalk. Her blood is heated enough to keep her warm and with her focus placed on abandoning Richard Castle, the weight of her workload is hardly noticeable. "And you need to leave me alone."

"All I wanted was to stop a guilty person from going free," he continues, thankfully possessing enough sense to keep his voice low as he jogs to keep up with her, dodging pedestrians and falling into step beside her. "But I know what's even worse than that."

Kate purses her lips, keeps her eyes straight ahead, and forces herself to ignore him, ignore him, ignore-

"Sending an innocent person to jail," he finishes, the sincerity in his words palpable, more than a ruse to gain her attention. "So please, if there's a way to stop that from happening, let me help you find it."

"How?" she demands, spinning to a stop before they can reach the nearest crosswalk, arching her brow as he stumbles to refrain from crashing into her.

"I – I have friends, the homicide detectives who worked this case," he explains, but Beckett only scoffs.

"You think the detectives who caught my client are going to help set her free?"

"They're good guys and they care more about justice, about right over wrong, than anything else. They want justice for Sadie Beakman, so do I, and I'm sure your client does too since that would guarantee her freedom," Castle reminds her, presenting his case with ease he had lacked on the stand, some small part of her impressed. "Come with me to the precinct, I'll call my guys on the way."

Kate scrapes her fingers through her hair, snags them in the confines of her bun, and sighs out a shallow breath.

"And all you want is justice? There's no ulterior motive here?" she questions, pinning him with a glare that's caused many witnesses to crack in the past, and Castle nods, lifts his hands in supplication.

"Just a guy trying to do the right thing," he promises her and she narrows her gaze, holds him with her eyes for another moment before stepping out towards the street, extending her arm for a taxi.

"That better be true, Mr. Castle."

"It is. Though, if I got to know you better throughout the process, I wouldn't complain," he murmurs from behind her and Kate rolls her eyes, decides it isn't worth her comment.

He doesn't want to know her. Bed her, maybe, but to truly know her is a challenge no man has ever been willing to accept, nor strong enough to succeed at. And she may find Richard Castle attractive, may enjoy the heat of his gaze and the husk of her name slipping past his lips, but those qualities would remain as nothing more than innocent observations. He would help her prove Nina O'Keefe's innocence, and then she could move onto her next case without her favorite author chasing her down city streets.

* * *

"You know, while Ryan and Esposito are interviewing Nina's cellmate, we could go grab something to eat," Castle suggests, lifting his eyes to Beckett from across the conference room table.

Despite being on different sides, the two male detectives that Rick had met while shadowing McNulty had grown to respect her within the last few hours that had been spent huddled around a table, sifting through evidence that could prove Nina's guilt – or innocence, as Beckett made sure to interject at every opportunity - while Castle had only become increasingly fascinated by her.

He wanted her story, craved to understand the remorse that shimmered in her eyes as she had been allowed access to the case files on Sadie Beakman, to learn the meaning behind the bulky, men's watch that adorned her wrist, the ring that dangled from a gold chain around her neck, often caught around her fingers while she read or worked through her theories aloud.

He wanted to know her story and then he wanted to write it.

"You're welcome to order Chinese takeout for everyone," she murmurs without looking up at him, scribbling something into the notebook she had pulled out of her briefcase hours ago.

"Yes, good idea," he nods along. "And maybe after this case…"

Kate tears her eyes from the notepad, weariness already circling the edges of her pupils, lining the pools of black with a murky shade of brown. She sighs and places her pen down, folds her hands atop the table, and meets his gaze with a frown.

Twelve hours ago, she had made a fool of him during the trial, hooked him without even trying, and now, he wanted nothing more than for her to reel him in.

"You told me you had one motive when it came to working with me today, Mr. Castle. Justice, not a dinner date."

"And that hasn't changed," he assures her, grateful the anxious bounce of his knee is hidden by the surface of the table. "All I am saying is that we could have both. Justice _then_ a dinner date."

Kate shakes her head, her hair free of its bun and falling in loose curls around her shoulders that he longs to brush his fingers through, tangle his hand in as he cradles the back of her skull, draw her mouth to his-

"We're not talking about this," she dismisses him, flipping open a folder of Nina's financials.

"How about a deal then? You're good at those," he quips, noticing with a flare of victory in his chest when the corner of her mouth twitches because of him for a second time today. "If I help you clear Nina's name, we go on one dinner date. Just one."

She abandons the study of numbers to meet his eyes, an arousing mixture of challenge and amusement swirling through hers, sweeping away the traces of trepidation.

"Okay, but _if_ you manage to play a crucial role in assisting me here, you leave me alone after that dinner date. You leave me alone once all is said and done regardless," she bargains, and he has no intention of that happening, but fine, he can offer his agreement until he manages to change her mind.

"Deal," Rick states, extending his hand to her from across the table.

She hesitates for a beat before reaching for him, closing her fingers around his palm and giving his hand a firm shake, but he doesn't let her go right away, momentarily arrested by the charge of electricity that jolts up his arm from where their palms kiss.

Kate jerks her hand back, drops her gaze to the table and clears her throat. "Deal."

* * *

Beckett shows up again at the Twelfth Precinct the next day per Castle's request, spends her entire morning with the persistent writer and her client, with the two homicide detectives who present her with their findings, no questions asked. She'll owe them if this all works out, if their combined efforts with Castle pay off in proving Nina's innocence, but whatever debt she's left in will be worth it to keep her client free from wrongful jail time.

"Man, he must really like you," Esposito mumbles from beside her while they watch from their conference room meeting place while Marcus Weller yells at Castle from the break room, the blinds slit and allowing the three of them a clear view of the scolding.

The ADA had stopped by to check on the progress of evidence against Nina, had seen Beckett sitting next to Castle with her briefcase open on the table, and had snapped. Guilt gnawed at her, the urge to intervene strong, but she had warned him, the boys had too, and there was nothing any of them could do now.

"Yeah, look at him," Ryan sighs, wincing as Marcus's voice resounds through the bullpen. "He's taking quite the verbal beating for you, Beckett."

"It isn't for me. He wants to do the right thing," she mutters her protest, pointedly turning her back to the window.

"You keep telling yourself that. No guy pisses off a judge and gets himself thrown into a holding cell just to delay a trial without a good reason," Esposito states, narrowing his gaze on her while Ryan nods in agreement.

"How much you want to bet he'll ask her on a date before the case is over?"

"How do we know he hasn't already?"

"True."

"Will you two shut up?" she huffs, tossing a spare pencil at Esposito's head. "We need to focus on investigating this case further. The trial is only postponed for so long."

"Not too long, unfortunately," Castle chimes in, striding through the door with his head held high despite the lashing he just received from the angry ADA storming for the elevator. "Trial's resuming in half an hour."

"Half an hour? We're back to square one with zero leads," Beckett groans, tugging her phone from her pocket, checking messages that inform her that court will indeed be in session soon.

"Careful, Beckett. You're starting to sound like one of us," Ryan quips and Kate bumps him with her shoulder as she glides past, snagging her briefcase on her walk towards the elevator.

"Wait up," Castle calls, chasing after her, always on her heels. "We're not just giving up, are we?"

She doesn't have time to waste, she needs to be at the courthouse, so she doesn't even try to stop him from stepping into the elevator with her.

"All I can do from here on out is do my part in that trial, Rick," she murmurs, smoothing a hand down her blazer to soothe the swell of disappointment through her system. She had known all along that accepting Castle's help would be a long shot, but somewhere within the last 24 hours, he had ignited a flame of hope that they would find the proof they needed to clear her client's name.

"Kate." Her heart skips at the combined sound of her name twined through his voice and the warmth of his hand embracing her fingers, the reassuring squeeze. She pulls them free from his grasp a second too late and huffs at herself for the slip up.

This isn't the time for her to get caught up in Richard Castle's charm, as genuine as his concern may seem. Her head has to be solely in the courtroom, on her client and her dwindling chances of winning this case, of making her mom proud.

Because Johanna Beckett is the reason she took this path, hoping to follow in her footsteps, and she knows her mom would have figured it out by now, would have discovered the odd sock, the missing piece that would force this case to make sense. Her mom had always known what to do, until her determination had gotten her killed.

The elevator doors slide open and the click of her heels echoes through the police station's lobby until Castle is holding open the entrance doors for her, stepping out into the brisk air at her side. She turns to go her separate way, but he touches her arm, hooks his fingers in the crook of her elbow, and offers her the fiercest look of determination she's seen him wear within the last 24 hours.

"I have an idea."

* * *

Kate is the one to call him to the stand this time and he does his best to ignore the murderous glare Marcus is giving him from the prosecution's table, the displeased expression he's earning from the judge as well, and focuses solely on the defense attorney standing in front of him with her eyes sharp and locked on his.

"Mr. Castle," she begins, less bite to her voice this time around. "Yesterday you testified that my client was guilty of killing Mrs. Beakman, do you still believe that's true?"

"No, Nina's innocent," Rick states, hearing the jury's gasps of surprise from his left, but training his attention to Kate, to the encouraging nod she offers.

"And when, may I ask, did you change your mind about my client?"

"When I realized that Nina was a victim of bad timing. First and foremost, my own."

They had walked through his night at the party together during the cab ride over, revisiting his memory of finding Nina standing over Sadie, attempting to pull the fire poker from her ribs rather, and applying everything new that he had learned after meeting Kate, after hearing Nina's side of the story. They had established through an invigorating series of theorizing back and forth that it was because of his late arrival to the scene of the crime that he had missed the actual murderer. Simply because he had been unable to use the restroom downstairs, which Sadie's husband had occupied while he'd cleaned the mud from his shoes, collected from trudging through the backyard, to and from killing his wife.

He recites it all back to Kate, just like he had in the taxi, and points to Lloyd Beakman when she asks him to identify the killer, another round of gasps filling the air as the man rises, the daughter too, the story unraveling further until the truth spills free.

And through it all, Castle can only watch the triumph explode through Kate's eyes when Nina is released of all charges, as justice is finally served for both the dead and the living. She must feel his gaze on her from across the courtroom, but instead of the eye roll he's come to know or the glare he's grown to expect, Kate finds his gaze from over her shoulder and offers him the first real smile he's ever seen her wear. A smile that softens her features, brightens her eyes, and somehow manages to make her appear even more breathtaking.

It's been so long since a woman has left him speechless, but Kate Beckett has somehow stolen both words and breath without even trying.

* * *

Kate huffs at herself for fidgeting in his hallway, dropping her hand from her hair and tucking the chain carrying her mother's ring beneath the neck of her sweater. She takes a deep breath before she knocks on his door, nerves and excitement creating rivaling riots of butterflies through her stomach that flutter up to her ribcage, tickle at the back of her throat.

She had made a deal to have dinner with him if they solved this case together and he had lived up to his end of their bargain, done his part, but she hadn't expected for him to arrange this dinner at his loft in SoHo, to apparently put the effort into a home-cooked meal, all for a simple date that's had her on edge since they'd parted ways on the courthouse steps yesterday afternoon.

"Hey, Kate, " Castle beams once the door opens to reveal her on the other side. "You look gorgeous."

Her cheeks burn, but she returns the compliment, appreciating the sight of him in the charcoal grey button down that brings out the cerulean of his eyes, the rolled up sleeves allowing a glimpse of his toned arms. "You're not so bad yourself, Castle."

"Well, I tried to clean up nice for you," he grins, hanging her coat up for her in the closet and placing a hand to the small of her back once the front door has clicked shut. "Is Italian okay with you?"

"Of course," Beckett nods, letting him guide her through the living space that has her jaw threatening to drop, into a tasteful dining area arranged in front of a gas fireplace that's embedded into the wall and emits real warmth. Far from what she had expected. "Your home is beautiful."

"Thanks. My daughter, Alexis, was here over the weekend, before the trial, and helped me straighten things up," he explains, abandoning her to retrieve something from the oven in the kitchen while she lingers at the table.

"I almost forgot you had a daughter," she admits a little sheepishly.

"Since she grew up, started college, it's been a lot easier to keep her out of the media," Castle tells her, approaching her with a steaming, heavenly scented casserole dish to place on the dining table. "She's attending Columbia at the moment, but insists she live on her own for a while, establish her independence."

The pout that claims his lips causes a laugh to simmer in her throat, but beneath the dramatics, there's a hidden sadness to his words, the ache of a father missing his daughter, and she curses him for giving her another reason to wish this impromptu partnership wasn't coming to an end.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to celebrate." Castle jogs back into the kitchen, retrieving a bottle from the countertop near the sink and two champagne flutes.

Kate huffs a laugh as he hands one to her, clinks their glasses.

"Nina was lucky to have a public defender like you, someone who cares about the truth."

"Yeah, well, I think her true good luck charm was you, Castle," she murmurs, tucking a stray curl of her hair behind her ear and taking a sip of the bubbling champagne in her glass.

"If anything, I think I came out the luckiest of all," he muses, mimicking her and swallowing a sip of champagne before setting his glass down on the table. "You know, courtrooms have a lot of drama, enough to fill a legal thriller."

"Thinking about switching genres?"

"Yes, actually." Kate pauses, her glass still to her lips, and – oh no, his eyes are alight with an idea, one that can't bode well for her. "Remember how I shadowed that detective a few years ago, learned so much from Ryan and Esposito-"

"Castle."

"They were great, but a single day with you, Kate, and I have enough ideas for an entire series of books."

"Castle."

"So what if I-"

"No, don't even say it," she mutters, lowering her glass to the table at her side and crossing her arms over her chest. "Shadowing me in any way, shape, or form was _not_ part of the deal."

"That's another thing I think we should discuss. Because, if I remember correctly, the deal was to leave you alone after this date and I can already tell that's going to be a problem," he confesses, not looking the least bit ashamed, but with hope and a little desperation in his gaze nonetheless, illuminated by the dance of firelight across his face. "I don't think I'm going to be able to leave you alone, Kate."

He steps in closer to her and she knows she should back away, that he wouldn't chase her if she put a stop to it, told him no, but her feet remain planted to the spot in which she stands.

"You don't?" she sighs, feigning disappointment, but she had already feared this would happen, hadn't she? Had secretly hoped for it no matter how much she hated herself for it.

Castle's chest is a breath away from hers, his proximity eliciting a pleasant hum through her blood, a crackle of electricity through her veins.

"I'm not saying yes to shadowing me," she mumbles, her traitorous hands already rising at their own volition to fit along the sides of his neck, draping over the warm skin that covers his hammering pulse, the touch of stubble beneath his jaw abrading her palms.

He sucks in a breath and lifts gentle hands to her waist, his fingers a tentative caress at her hipbones.

"What are you saying yes to?"

Kate bites her bottom lip, witnesses the shift of his eyes from light to dark, and flicks her gaze to his mouth, back again. This is the opposite of what she had planned, of what she would consider smart, but it's also the first time in too long that something other than a case has made her feel more than grief.

It's only been a day, one case worked together, but Rick Castle manages to make her feel like there could be so much more, like he could be good for her.

"A change in the deal," she murmurs, lips a breath away from brushing his, and Castle leans in, dusts a kiss to her mouth that has her arching on her toes for more. "I don't think I want you to leave me alone either, Castle."


End file.
